Spin
by itnogs
Summary: What can happen when a drunken game of spin the bottle breaks out?


Regina couldn't even remember how she had let herself get so drunk. Town functions were always questionable, especially the ones aimed toward adults. You never knew what could happen. She took in the huddled circle around an empty beer bottle as many recognizable faces roared and cheered in their drunken states.

"Emma! You're up!"

The blonde blushed as her turn came up. Stumbling onto one hand to balance herself she reached out toward the glass object that the whole group was staring at. Grasping the bottle she soon let it go with the flick of her wrist. The crowd went silent as the empty ale vessel made its way around and around, driven from the extremely forceful start. As the object slowed, you could literally hear almost everyone's voice hitch in their throats wondering who the recipient of the lips of the sheriff would be. It slows to a stop. The room itself seems to gasp along with every person in it. Regina.

The blonde crawls on her hands and knees toward the wide-eyed woman opposite her. "A deal's a deal," she says closing the space between them.

Resting one hand on the floor and the other on Regina's face she leans in, initially brushing her lips against the older woman's, then pressing in. Parting the brunette's lips she dips her tongue in to taste Regina. It's intoxicating. Mutual feelings blossom from the dark-haired woman who pushes back. The rest of the room disappears as both are drinking in the other. Regina moves to her knees in an attempt to get closer, get _more._ She let's her tongue collide and trail the side of Emma's. The mix of red wine and whiskey fills her senses creating an unfamiliar yet oddly addictive sensation. Regina couldn't believe the petty reasons she fed herself as to why she should keep an appropriate distance from the simplistic, yet stunning woman before her. Bringing her hand to the back of Emma's neck, Regina held the blonde's head against her own. Her other hand now resting on Emma's on the floor.

The rest of the room doesn't dare speak as to disrupt the women. Fifteen minutes now and they showed no signs of letting up, no signs of comprehension of the world around them.

"You go girls!" Ruby excitedly breathes.

"Should we even attempt to do anything?" Mary Margaret whispers.

"I dunno. Probably," comes David's hushed tone.

He quietly creeps over to Regina, and Mary Margaret to Emma. She mouths _1…2…3_ they simultaneously pull backward the two women landing hard on their backs.

"The fuck!?" Emma shouts, looking up at the pale woman above her.

"Do you even realize that we've been watching you make-out with Regina for almost twenty minutes?" Mary Margaret questions.

"Huh? Last I checked-" Emma glances at the clock, "Oh my fucking God."

Regina doesn't even interpret the words coming out of Emma's mouth. _Oh, Emma's mouth! Is it possible to be so rough and soft at the same time? The warmth of her body mingling with the warmth of alcohol…is that even possible? Do all people taste that good? Should they? Oh my Lord…I just kissed Emma Swan._ Seeing Regina's uncharacteristically puzzled face Emma crawled back over to where the older woman was sitting. The alcohol finally hitting her harder came in a wave in Regina. Her eyes glazing over, she crumpled toward the ground, falling directly into the sheriff's arms.

Emma, having sobered up a bit lifts Regina wedding style and starts walking toward the exit. Ruby runs to help with the door, and the blonde maneuvers her way through the tight doorframe and out onto the street. Regina's face instinctually nuzzles its way into Emma's neck sending tingles up the latter's spine. Walking all the way from downtown to Regina's gargantuan house, Emma doesn't even drop her once.

Making her way inside, Emma climbs the stairs and enters Regina's room. She gingerly places the flawless figure on her bed removing her shoes, kisses Regina's forehead, and leaves.

The next morning, in the midst of an incredible hangover Regina wakes up. Not quite remembering exactly what happened the night before she figures the thoughts of kissing Emma Swan must be from a dream. Racking up the energy to check her phone she taps on Facebook. Her face instantly goes pale at a close-up photograph staring her in the face.

"Shit."


End file.
